《139 Years to the End of the World》Chapter Four: Year One, Part Four
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They called it the Cryo-Tube. That's the name of the machine they'll use to freeze me. It sounded like some exotic dildo if you asked me. Joan and I walked hand in hand as we followed Professor Leah and Agent G down a long, white, spotless corridor. Even the floors were tiled white. A small black spot marked the end in the distant. Fifteen stories underground, the temperature chilled and the environment felt damp. Joan shivered and I took off my grey jacket and gently wrapped it around her.
“Your daughter and parents are waiting in the main chamber,” Leah explained as our footsteps echoed down the hall. “That's where the Cryo-Tube will be stored at.”
About two minutes into the walking; we could see a metal door at the end of path. Though from the distance, I judged we were only halfway there. It could have just been me and my new legs slowing everyone down. They were strong enough to walk now but moved stiffly, with a little wobble in the left with every step. I'm sure the plastic grating against my flesh would have hurt, but without the ability to feel pain, it became just a minor thought in the back of my mind.
Joan asked, “It's quite a walk isn't it?”
“Apologies,” Leah replied. “We needed to access the underground river for the energy needed to power the Cryo-Tube. And this depth meant a more stable surrounding temperature, allowing us to better control the freezing temperature.”
“Good, good,” I replied blankly, nodding my head in a dumb daze. I didn't fully understand the explanation but the professor sounded really confident. I like that in people attempting to preserve my life.
We walked the rest of the way in silence. I admit that by the time we had reached the end of the hallway, I was panting a little. Can't really blame my stamina for that though. I'm dying. It's the way that works.
Leah placed her palm flat on a scanner on the left of the metal door and G did the same with another on the right. A soft beep from both machines cleared us to enter. The door made a rough grinding noise and descended into the ground, coming to a thumping halt once it levelled with the floor.
G bowed exaggeratedly and directed us in with a cheeky grin. “This way.”
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Once across the threshold, I heard the sound of sandals slapping the floor and found myself assaulted by a pint-sized girl, no taller than my chest. Her long auburn hair flailed wildly as Leila, my seven years old precious foster daughter came charging into my chest for a hug.
Expectedly, I began to fall backwards, my legs not strong enough to hold her weight. Joan however, placed a supportive arm behind me. I looked to her and she smiled reassuringly. Stabling myself with her help, I grinned back like an idiot.
“Daddy! This place is so cold!” Leila exclaimed excitedly, looking up at me with her hazel eyes and bubbly chin, her smooth, white face like that of soap. She had her hands wrapped in a pink cotton mitten, and wore an oversized leather jacket that reached down to her knees. The sleeves were rolled up to her elbow and she looked like, well, there's no other way to say this, a cute little hobo. “It's like Hillbury.”
I bent over and snuggled my nose in her hair, “Your favourite-test place ever!” We had taken a trip to Hillbury last year and saw snow for the first time. Leila was ecstatic. Even in the freezing temperature, she would drag me and Joan out to build snowmen and have snowball fights.
She giggled as I jokingly blew into her scalp. Softly, she repeated, “Favourite-test.”
Looking up, I saw my parents walking towards me followed by Agent Matthews. My father, James Jones, wore a white singlet and jeans, having given his jacket to Leila. His whitening hair had receded to the point where half his scalp was visible. Unlike most men, he made no attempts to hide it, leaving his hair sloping to the sides. The muscles that once held up his rugged face had loosen, his skin having tightened till it outlined his bone structure. Thin but not frail, his hardened construction worker frame still lingered.
My mother on the other hand was quite chubby for her age. I suspected it was from the habit of sampling her own dishes from the time she was a cook. Stella was her name. She took after my grandmother with her rock brown hair and tendency to wear light dresses, as was the bright and green floral dress she had on that day. She looked no older than forty if you asked me, but both my parents were well into their late fifties, an age that many people of the time could never reach.
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My father nodded to me with a smile, but I could see the indication behind his eyes that said he wanted to talk. I nodded back and, with some effort, pried Leila loose from her hug. With a smile, I reluctantly told her, “Why don't you show mommy around the place?”
At the thought of playing tour guide, she enthusiastically replied, “Okay!” and quickly reached over to grab Joan by the hand, impatiently dragging her away. “Come on mommy! Let's go!” G and Matthews followed after.
I smiled as I waved them off, and for the first time, I managed a good look at my surroundings. We were in a large square chamber, the walls lined with the same white that preceded us in the hallway before, with glass windows on the walls to the left and right, likely leading to rooms beyond them. In the centre was a large, metallic grey, well, rice cooker would be the best way to describe it. The Cryo-Tube had pipes running into it, with a large tank of liquid coolant at its side. A stepladder by its side was what I assumed the only way to get in. The thing was about twice my height and two meters in diameters. Consoles surrounded it at a distance, connected by wires and tubes, with scientists in spotless lab coats behind them. The entire scenery blinded me with its whiteness.
“Milton,” James greeted grumpily. “You're late as usual.”
“Sorry dad,” I replied. “Things are not exactly 'usual' though, so cut me some slack. Besides, I just found out grandpa was psychic.”
Distressed, he rubbed his hands over his temple, nursing that fake headache he's always having. “It's not that we didn't want to tell you, it's just that your grandpa told us not to.”
“That's just like that old fart,” I mused. I used fart affectionately, like how some people call their friends pieces of shit. Or maybe I'm the only one that does that? I looked to my father again and asked, “Is there anything I should worry about with this place?”
My mother whispered to Leah, just loud enough that I could hear and be embarrassed. “That's just like Milly, always looking at the details.”
“Mom...” I sighed under my breath.
She came over and gave me a hug, one which I nevertheless returned despite the offhand embarrassment. “You're just like your grandfather like that. Always into the details.”
She pulled apart and I found myself reconnecting with my father's steely gaze. He continued, “Everything we see here seems good. Nothing 'shady' or the like. I know these guys when they were working with your grandpa. They're good souls. You can trust them.”
The thing was, I didn't. But I did trust my parents. They had always been, in my eyes at least, great judge of characters. Not to mention the fact that my grandfather worked with these government blokes as well so that must have meant something.
I turned confidently to Leah, her lab coat and general bright dressing seemed to camouflaged her into the background. When I tried to look her in the eye, I felt like I was speaking to a floating head. “Okay, let's get this done.”
She wheeled her head back a little in shock. “Really? No questions or doubts?”
“Plenty. But...” I shook my head. “My parents trust you. My wife has an eye on things. That's all good enough for me.”
“This is a big decision. Are you sure you don't want to-”
I cut in, “I have two weeks left to live. Let's not waste more of that time,” I looked over my shoulder to Leila showing Joan one of the control panels. “I want to be there for the days that matters.”
My father said to Leah, “And if anything happens to my son, I'll personally find all of you and make sure you get what's coming.”
My mother broke a grin, before pretending to sternly reprimand him. “Come on James, we have to be civil,” she turned to me with another of her trademarked sassy smile.
I nodded back before turning to Leah, “You guys can fill me up with all the boring stuff when I wake up for whatever maintenance. Right now though, let's get this over with.”
“Okay,” Leah replied. “Let's get you prepped for freezing.”
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